Previous Engagement
by AlreadyPainfullyGone
Summary: AU Dean is charged with keeping his wife's, friend Anna's, fiance, Castiel entertained while they make wedding plans. Obviously it can't stay that simple. Romance, angst, confusion and closet cases.
1. Chapter 1

Dean's willing to do a lot for Lisa, but entertaining her friend Anna's fiancé? May just push him over the edge.

For one thing, he and Castiel have nothing in common, and for another he's a high maintenance tight ass with no sense of fun. Ok, so they've only met once, at his and Lisa's wedding they made three minutes of small talk during which Dean suffered unspeakably. Castiel was ok, just soft spoken, a little (very) dull and from an entirely different type of family.

Anyway, now he has to spend the entire evening with him. Something about Lisa and Anna doing wedding stuff. Which apparently Castiel's too much of a guy to help with (an idea which Dean finds hilarious – Castiel looks like he might moisturise.)

When they arrive it's Lisa who opens the door. Anna breezes in, looking pretty amazing even to Dean, one woman guy that he is. She's also a little bit intimidating, very pale and well dressed with her red hair perfect as always. She looks like an angel, if angel's shopped at Barney's.

Castiel follows her into the house, looking exactly like he did the last time Dean saw him, and possibly wearing the same suit. He looks like a slightly rumpled math teacher, or something equally dull. But he and Anna both have the same alarmingly white skin and deep, searching eyes, so Dean guesses she can see past the awful flasher coat.

Anna pecks Lisa on the cheek, hugging her close. Lisa waves briefly at Castiel before dragging her friend off to the conservatory (how the fuck they ended up with that he'll never know – he'd wanted a barbecue pit) leaving him and Castiel in the hall. The front door is still open, Castiel closes it neatly, then smile shyly at the wall a few inches from Dean's left ear.

"Hello Dean" Deep voiced, polite and utterly devoid of feeling.

Oh this was going to be fun.

"Castiel" Dean marshalled a smile and displayed it easily. If in doubt, fake it. "Me and Sam were in the back, you want a beer?"

God bless...God (and ineffective prophylactics), for Sam. Younger brothers provided not only the best friends and drinking buddies of the world, they also made great gooseberry's and buffers.

Castiel nodded in response and Dean led him through to the den (the small room over the double garage). It was pretty decent and held everything that had been in his apartment pre-Lisa, his battered TV, pool table, records, couch and mountains of trash fiction paperbacks. There were also a slew of car, music and porno magazines heaped under the coffee table, next to which Sam had sprawled his long legs.

"Sam. Castiel, Castiel, Sam." He hands Castiel a beer from the cooler by the couch and offers him a seat, dropping into his own sagging recliner. "Sam's my brother, he was the best man at mine and Lisa's wedding."

"Yes, you gave an excellent speech." Castiel holds the beer for a few seconds as if he has no idea what it's for. Sam widens his eyes at Dean. _I see what you mean._

"So..." Dean begins gamely, tugging the beer gently from Castiel, twisting off the cap and handing it back in one smooth motion. "Big day soon, you sick of gardenias and salmon appetisers yet?"

Castiel actually seems to think about this.

"I believe myself to be quite fortunate, in that most of the preparations have been made by Anna and Lisa." He smiles genuinely. "Your wife has excellent taste."

"And I am a prime example of that" Dean smirks. "Though if she makes one more crack about the Impala I may be forced to burn a few throw pillows in protest."

Castiel just looks confused.

"It's a car." Sam points out, kindly. "Dean's weirdly devoted to it, gas guzzling steel eyesore though it is."

Dean inhales sharply.

Castiel sips his beer. Sam coughs.

Ok...awkward.

"Didn't I mention the impala in my speech?" Sam cuts in suddenly, grasping at a thread of conversation. "Something about first wives...I thought it was clever..."

"Glad all that college money wasn't wasted on you." Dean kicks his legs out under the table, feet almost landing on Castiel's. "Just you wait, best man speech? Most uncomfortable ten minutes of your life."

"It's not something I think I'll experience." Castiel says, bluntly, which is how he says everything. "My brother Gabriel declined the position of best man, and he was the closest thing I had."

"Thought Anna said you came from a huge family?"

"Indeed. But my other brothers and I do not socialise, when it is avoidable."

Straying into choppy waters. Abort. Abort.

"So you still need a best man?" Sam pipes up. Dean can see where this is going. It's nowhere good.

"I think 'need' is a tad..." Castiel begins, just as Sam says, "Dean could do it!"

Satan. Little brothers are the work of Satan.

"I think Dean would be uncomfortable, we barely know each other." Castiel says it pleasantly enough, but there's something about the fact that he knows exactly how awkward he makes Dean feel that get to him. So, irrationally he says,

"No, it'll be cool. You should have a speech, anyway it gives me some practice for when Sam finally man's up and proposes to Jess."

Sam scowls. Serves the bitch right.

Castiel blinks, and then gives Dean such a brief, sunny smile that for a second he's convinced he imagined it.

"Thank you Dean. That would be...thank you." For someone as articulate as Castiel that was sort of the equivalent of a hug and breathless excitement.

He could handle this, there were worse guys to hang out with. It was only a speech, he'd spend a few more evenings with Castiel while Lisa and Anna planned away downstairs, and then he'd never see the guy again anyway.

So why was he suddenly feeling like he'd opened the biggest can of worms imaginable?

The second time Lisa and Anna get together to discuss the wedding, Dean takes Castiel for a drive.

"This, is my baby." He unveiled the impala with a flourish. The car had barely been used since the wedding, over a year ago. He got that Lisa found it weird to drive it now that they were a respectable couple and not twenty-something's going out to bars. But still...he missed it.

"It's nice" Castiel looked completely underwhelmed by it, but not offended by the sight of the massive black automobile. He seemed to catch Dean's disappointment. "I don't know a lot about cars, I apologise."

"That's cool, at least you don't think it's hideous." They seated themselves and Dean started the engine, Zeppelin blared suddenly. He dipped the volume. "Sorry about that, I can turn it off if you like."

"You're driving, it's your car. Hence your choice of music" Castiel insists gently.

Ok, so maybe Castiel wasn't such a dick after all – he'd actually had to explain that rule to Sam.

"What do you mean you've never done it?"

Yup, can open, worms everywhere.

_I really shouldn't drink. _Dean thought, as soon as the words were out of his mouth. But too late, damage done, and to be fair Castiel was pretty wasted himself. And he had just admitted that he and Anna had never had sex.

It was only the second time he and Castiel had been forced into each other's company for the evening, but they'd already established that Castiel rarely watched TV and sucked at pool. So drinking was pretty much the only option. They'd returned from the drive hours ago and set up camp in Dean's space over the garage. The bottle was nearing empty, and though Castiel could hold a surprising amount of liquor it was apparently taking effect. His tie, already loose, was now tugged further out of its knot and he was leaning heavily into the couch next to Dean, losing his usually rigid posture. He frowned, unfocused and only mildly irritated by Dean's disbelief.

"Our families are quite religious." He said, as if that explained everything.

Wait a minute...

"So...it's not just Anna...you've really never, you know...?"

"I've never had sex. No." And the look in his eyes, measuring Dean's reaction, mixed with embarrassment and challenging him to find this weird, should probably not be affecting him like it is.

"That explains a lot."

Why did he drink? This was almost worse than the time he kissed Sam...ok, nothing was worse than that, but this was happening right now, like a car crash, only more socially awkward.

Castiel cocks his head to one side like a slightly inebriated bird.

"You're just...a lot of the time you're kind of intense and...tense." he finishes, lamely.

"I hardly feel that's symptomatic of virginity."

No answer to that, so Dean makes it worse instead.

"So, you've never been tempted?"

Blood creeps into Castiel's face, flushing him slightly beneath that day's layer of scruff.

"Ah-ha! Knew it!" Triumphantly he downs another shot. "Who was it?"

"Not Anna, I mean" Castiel flushes more. "obviously I find her attractive..."

"Get to the good stuff Cas" _Cas _where the fuck did that come from?

"There was someone, in high school, that I found...intoxicating" on anyone else it would sound ridiculous, but the look in Castiel's suddenly dark eyes, the way his soft mouth forms the words...Dean believes that Castiel was intoxicated. He can remember how that feels, the heavy, heady, dark pull of arousal and _want_ pooling in his belly.

God it's been a long time.

Not that he...Lisa...

Whisky fragments the guilty thought. Thank fuck.

Wait.

"Anna said you went to...your high school was dudes only, right?"

Castiel's face twitches and Dean knows that he is the first person Castiel has told this to. That he hadn't meant to tell anyone, ever.

"Yes" he says, voice small and shamed and suddenly frighteningly sober.

"Cas..." Dean breathes, because this is big, huge. He has no idea how to deal with it, but suddenly he feels responsible. He's the one who brought Castiel up to the den and got him drunk.

"Don't tell anyone." Suddenly the thirty year old accountant looks like a teenager, face open and naive and afraid.

If it wasn't so heartbreaking it would be beautiful.

"But...doesn't that...change, anything?"

"I'm getting married." And the tone brooks no argument, it's final and heavy. And dead.

Castiel doesn't want to get married.

Castiel is gay.

And Dean has no idea what to do.

"Do you want to talk about it?" last refuge of the emotionally crippled. Castiel looks at him speculatively. "Well, clearly you haven't talked about this before...maybe it'd help. Hell, I'd want to tell someone if I was in love."

Words were still happening...why?

"It's been a long time." Castiel murmurs, eyes fixing on his glass with a frightening intensity. Finally he speaks, low and almost hesitant. "His name was Balthazar."

Oh God, they were really doing this.

"He was...we shared classes and I thought he was..." Castiel's eyes are far away, his throat works drily and Dean feels a pang of sympathy, Castiel had it bad. "Beautiful." He finishes, and again he makes the word mean so much more than anyone else. Dean believes him.

"Did anything happen?" Dean prods after a few seconds of loaded silence. Castiel shakes his head.

"I told my brother, Michael. I was confused; I had very little idea of what was happening to me." He frowns. "they sent me to bible camp, a year long, residential bible camp."

O.K...that sounded like deprogramming.

"That sounds like deprogramming." He blurts. Castiel seems surprised, but nods dumbly.

"That's why Gabriel won't come to the wedding. He thinks...well, he knows, that I shouldn't marry Anna."

"You shouldn't"

"I love her."

"Dude, not enough. If you stop this now she can find someone..." he casts about for the right words, then gives up and uses the stupid ones that are always readily available. "Someone who likes girls."

Castiel winces, but looks no less resolute.

"One infatuation, over ten years ago, proves nothing." He avoids Dean's eyes.

"So that was it, since this guy, you haven't wanted to...be, with anyone? And you didn't get to do anything with him anyway?" Something about that seems wrong, or at least it does to Dean's brain.

"I've never had occasion." He says. Small, defeated and suddenly not the same guy Dean took for a drive. He's...human, and almost (almost) within his reach.

He moves his arm from the top of the couch, encircling Cas's narrow shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. Their mouths meet and he sucks Castiel's bottom lip gently, kissing him for a few seconds longer than he thinks is a good idea.

He pulls back, all the alcohol in the world cannot make this right. His first rational thought in the last hour - He's just stolen Castiel's first kiss.

"Sorry...God, Shit!, sorry." He blurts, regretting the blasphemy the instant he lets it slip. Castiel looks at him like he's trying to work out if he liked the taste, or something equally ponderous.

Then he kisses him back. Closing the space between them with a quick movement and touching their lips together tentatively. Reflexively, Dean tugs him a little closer and slips into making-out-mode. The sound Castiel makes is somehow both pained and hungry, exactly matching the way he kisses.

Alcohol and a lifetime of frustration'll do that.

Dean meshes a hand in his hair, the other resting on his hip. Their tongues brush as he urges Castiel into his lap, feeling a growing hardness against his stomach. It's foreign and completely alienating and too much. He can't think or reason that he is married, that Castiel is engaged and damaged and fragile. He just wants, needs, this to...

Castiel thrusts against him, whimpering.

Dean is lost.

"Fuck...Cas..." he mutters in the space between frantic kisses.

Castiel mewls, honestly mewls in responce, pressing them impossibly closer.

The hand on Castiel's hip traces around to the front of his dress pants, finding the thin fabric taught. He rubs against Cas's arousal, and each new mewl and groan feeds something in him, something that's ravenous for _this_.

Cas thrusts shallowly against his hand, abandoning Dean's mouth and resting their foreheads together. The space between them is filled with heated breath and brief, aching sounds. Castiel's hand cups Dean's face, whisky blurred eyes just visible in the dark haze of his features, so close. Dean pauses for a second, wriggling his hand inside Castiel's slacks and underwear.

The groan he elicits is one of relief and frustration. He might as well have been hard since high school, practically has been, no release except himself for his entire life. The hot flesh strains into his palm.

"Dean...please, just...God..." is all he gets out.

"I know." He soothes, dragging him down into another kiss. Cas's teeth catch his lip, nipping harder than Lisa usually...

Lisa.

Castiel comes suddenly.

"Dean...I..." Begging and praising as hot pulses cover his fist.

The enormity of this hit's them at the same time. Mainly because Anna calls from the base of the stairs.

"Cas? Baby, you up there?"

Castiel jerks out of Dean's arms as though scalded.

His hair is a mess, his shirt wrinkled, he's flushed, sweating and his fly is still open. Thankfully most of the mess is on Dean, but he still looks...

Well...bedded.

Couched, anyway.

He smoothes himself as best he can, not looking at Dean at all. Then bolts for the stairs, still shaking.

Dean is left with a fistful of come and a raging erection, wondering why the hell his life had gotten so complicated.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next few days he treats it like a horrible dream. It almost works; because once he's washed his hands and gotten into bed with Lisa it feels comfortably distant. All the heat he felt has petered out, he's wrapped around his wife, warm and comfortable. One drunken, fumbling, embrace does not make him gay.

The belting hangover he has the next morning drives it even further away.

It comes back, the memories of Castiel on top of him, begging and writhing as his cock slid across Dean's palm, when Lisa asks.

"So are you ok with Castiel coming over again tomorrow?"

He almost chokes on his raisin bran (fucking raisin bran). "Uh...yeah, I guess."

"Great, I just wanted to make sure because, well Anna has this thing about organza and..."

Dean can't help it, he tunes it out, save for one errant thought – is organza a flower, a fabric or a band?

He pecks Lisa on the cheek, watches as she takes the Volvo to the yoga studio. He busies himself washing dishes.

(Not thinking about Castiel)

Tidying the living room.

(Not thinking about Castiel)

Taking a shower.

(Not thinking about Castiel)

Answering the door.

(Not thinking about...)

"Castiel."

"Dean"

He looks decidedly ruffled, trench coat absent, suit the same as always, but his hair is wild, like he's run his hands through it too much and not slept enough either.

"I thought Anna wasn't...Lisa's not here." He manages, stupidly.

"I know." Castiel looks shifty, no two ways about it. "I thought we should talk, before I came back here with Anna."

Dean steps aside and lets him in.

He leaves Castiel on the cream sofa in the living room and goes to make coffee, returning with mugs that neither of them touch. Castiel is tense, anxiously perched on the edge of his seat and hunching his shoulders protectively.

"Cas" he jumps at the sound, at the endearment, or both. "I'm sorry, about last night. I was drunk and out of line. I mean, I don't even know you."

"I came to apologise for myself." Castiel avoids looking him in the eye. "I don't think I've ever been that drunk before. I had no idea what I was saying"

What Dean hears is, _I wish I hadn't said anything, but now I'm denying it, got it? No go area. _

Dean can do denial, but he can't just let this go. Anna deserves better than this, and Castiel deserves better than this lie. Besides, he knows he took something precious from Castiel last night, something he can never get back. His first time being that close with someone should not have been on an electric-tape covered couch with a married stranger.

"You know I remember everything, right?" Dean's never been good at subtle, he forgets that, sometimes.

Castiel's eyes flick to his own. Wide and blue and afraid.

"And I'm sorry that I kissed you, sorry for everything that we did because...well, you deserve better. You were in love and you deserve to have that, not just some...empty...fuck." Dean feels his self disgust reaching new heights.

Castiel winces again.

"I'm sorry about that, I was out of my mind." He suddenly looks anxious. "Not that you were...bad."

Right. Because after confessing your homosexuality whilst drunk and having a stranger feel you up – it's logical to not want to hurt their feelings. Warmth radiates through him, Castiel, though strange, was definitely growing on him.

"Well, you seemed to..."

Castiel blushes, averting his eyes for a second, when they meet Dean's again they're subtly darker. It's a darkness that looks so strange on Castiel, like it comes from somewhere deep inside that no one was ever meant to see.

"It was pleasant." His voice has gone husky, loaded with guilt and want and nerves.

"Upstairs." Dean blurts. Castiel's eyes widen, almost hopefully. "Upstairs, now."

They end up tumbled on the couch for the second time in twenty-four hours. Dean's jeans and Castiel's slacks around their ankles, hands raking over each other. After a while Dean takes Castiel's erection in hand, blocking the part of his brain that's been asking for the last hour, exactly what the fuck he thinks he's doing. Castiel's hand copies the gesture, running his strangely jointed fingers over Dean's urgent flesh.

The only sounds are the subdued, urgent whimpers of Castiel and the dry pull of their palms over each other. Heat pools in his belly, sluggish and heavy, laced with shocks of pleasure every time Castiel mewls his name.

"Cas...Cas, I'm going to..."

Castiel's free hand tugs his dress shirt up, revealing his stomach and chest, dusted with smoky hair. Dean comes with a choked gasp, spilling over his smooth, pale skin. Castiel's own release follows, soaking the bunched fabric of Dean's T-shirt. His mouth is pressed, wet and open, against Dean's throat.

"Oh" the sound comes from deep down, grating in his wrecked throat. "God, that was...oh"

Dean's strength fails and his body drops onto Castiel's, heated mess trapped between them. Castiel lets out a surprised huff of air, his fingers twining in Dean's hair.

"What are we doing?" Dean murmurs after a while.

"I don't know" His voice is small, unsure and broken. "I don't know why I want this, you." He mouths Dean's jaw tentatively. "But I think that's why I came here...I'm sorry."

"We just cheated on them. I cheated on my wife" Dean says, numbly.

"I'm sorry" Castiel repeats. "I can...it won't happen again" he sounds so resolute.

Dean can only nod against Castiel's shoulder.

"Ok."

Castiel cleans up and goes home. That evening Anna comes to the house alone, Castiel she explains, has some work to catch up on.

Dean nods vaguely and gets another beer. Whatever it was is over, no need to think about it.

Of course that's all he does.

Castiel, beautiful, innocent Castiel. Somehow a separate entity from corporate, awkward Castiel. Dean loves Lisa, thinks she's incredibly, smart and sexy and _bendy_. But Cas...maybe he loves Cas just that little bit more.

Which is stupid. He's met him twice (three times if you count his own fucking _wedding_) No one falls in love that fast.

Except...he kind of wants to call him.

Just to see if he's ok.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean spends the week tuning up cars for Bobby, mowing his lawn and going to bed with his wife.

In short, life is normal again.

He still can't escape the niggling feeling that he should call Castiel. Lisa hasn't mentioned Anna at all, so he knows the wedding is still going ahead – in less than three weeks. Even if Castiel told Anna the truth that would still leave Dean with the knowledge that he cheated on his wife (twice) with another man.

There's no way he can tell Lisa. And it's not like he's planning on doing it again.

But he does owe it to Castiel, as a sort of friend, to try to talk him out of entering a sham marriage that would break Anna's heart.

So that's how he winds up at Castiel's office, carrying a boxed pie and feeling suddenly very nervous.

"Dean" Castiel opens the door to his tiny accountants office, eyes large and nocturnal looking, like he hasn't slept in a week. "What are you doing here?" he sounds pleasant, neutral, and if Dean hadn't twice washed Castiel's semen off his hands then he'd think this man was nothing short of average.

"Hi, I thought we could talk...with pie" he raises the box "somewhere where we won't get...distracted." he finishes, awkwardly.

Castiel nods once and lets him in to the office; it's incredibly tidy, almost like a set instead of an actual workplace. Dean sets the pie on the desk and takes a seat across from Castiel.

"So...the wedding's in two weeks"

Castiel nods. This conversation is going to be like pulling teeth, Dean can tell.

"You're still going ahead with it."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Don't to do that." Dean meets Castiel's guileless eyes purposefully. "We both know why you wouldn't, why you shouldn't, Cas."

"A teenage crush and a drunken evening do not overthrow a lifetime of..."

"Of what? Pretending? Lying? Because I tell you what Cas, that night? that's the real you."

Castiel shakes his head, losing some of his precious calm.

"No it's not." He insists, quietly.

"Yes. It is." Dean tries to be gentle, but he needs Castiel to get the point here. "I've never seen you...I didn't think you could be like that."

"Like what? Out of control? Out of my mind?" Castiel explodes, or rather, insists dangerously, which amounts to the same thing. "That night was the most obscene experience of my life. I'm not like you, Dean."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't seek out that kind of...perversion." Castiel's eyes flicker with disgust.

"And I do? Castiel, until you, I hadn't done anything like that, not with another dude anyway."

"You seemed more than capable."

"Maybe I'm just that good" Dean spits, bitterly. Castiel's as good as called him a whore, a freak and a liar. It's the latter epithet that hurts the most. "Whatever, think what the hell you want. But if you marry Anna you're dragging her into this freak show, and she's not like us, Cas." He stresses the 'us', they're both in this, like it or not. "she's a good person, clean and innocent, you can't tell me you want her dragged down to our level."

"I'm nothing like you." Castiel grinds out, bristling.

"You're a liar, and you enjoyed what I did to you." Dean huffs a sardonic laugh "We're _exactly_ the same."

"I'd like you to leave." Castiel looks...well, destroyed. For the first time Dean realises he has no idea what it must be like for a pathologically religious, innocent man like Castiel. How he must feel about the things his body wants, what it needs.

He must be going insane.

"Cas..."

"Now...please." He meets Dean's eyes, begging him to just go, to take his accusations and temptations with him. To take it all away.

Except he can't, because it's only partly his doing. Castiel can't stop himself from wanting.

"Take care of yourself Cas" He gets up and goes to the door. "You deserve it, to be taken care of."

Castiel doesn't reply.


	4. Chapter 4

It's a relief to find that Anna isn't home by the time he gets back from work. He sheds his coat and suit jacket in the hall, dragging himself up the stairs on socked feet. They have separate bedrooms, both with en suite showers. Never has he been more grateful.

Castiel lets the water run blisteringly hot, fogging the mirrors as he slips out of the rest of his clothes, stepping over the edge of the tub and wincing as the first white-hot spray lances his flesh. He holds himself under the water, feeling it burn as it soaks his hair to the scalp, dissolving the gel that holds it in place, water scorches his back, neck, hands, running down his legs and through the creased flesh and course hair that he usually avoids touching.

He wraps a hand around himself with a groan. He's doing this more often lately, like his body won't forget the sensations he's desperately trying to erase from his memory. It's better to do it in the shower, where the evidence is immediately carried away. It feels cleaner, more easily deniable.

He shudders to his climax, rinsing himself off under the spray. Then he soaps himself from head to toe, washes his hair, blinking back soap and errant drips of water. When he's finished he stretches out in the bottom of the tub, already half hard again. Now the urgency is gone he can draw it out, guiltily stroking himself, biting his lip. The agony of coming silently, and so often, is fraying at his composure.

When he finally finishes he curls on his side, lukewarm water still hammering at his skin.

He's been so good. Never entertaining that side of himself, not even with women. Denying himself anything, even this teenage diversion, for so long. But it was never gone, just gathering itself, making itself too strong to deny, too strong to stop.

He stays there until he hears Anna opening the front door, then he has to get out and dry off. Never once looking in the mirror.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean is nothing if not persistent.

The next day, while Anna is discussing bouquets with Lisa and Castiel is feigning illness, Dean arrives at the house. Castiel opens the door in his bathrobe and quickly tries to shut it again. Dean's boot blocks it.

"Cas...come on, just let me in."

"I don't want to talk about it." Castiel grinds out, attempting to stare him out, despite the dark towelling robe and fluffy hair.

"We don't have to talk about the wedding." Dean responds quickly. "I just came to see if you were ok...we can talk about anything, doesn't matter." He senses Castiel wavering "I have pie."

Castiel sighs like he's already regretting this and opens the door.

"The living room is through..."

Dean kisses him as soon as the door is closed.

Castiel would push him away, should push him away. Except that this is what he needs, Dean's hands locked on his hips, chest pushed up against his own, mouth hot and sweet and _perfect_. Days of solitary release under burning faucets, waking up hard and shaking with misery. Castiel has been starved beyond endurance, now he can't stop, doesn't want to. So when Dean gathers enough control to pull away, its Castiel's hands that drag him back, clashing their mouths and tongues together.

They're flush against each other already, even as Dean gets his fingers twisted in the front of Castiel's robe, pulling it open and dropping to his knees, licking and sucking at the skin that falls under his mouth, hopeless, greedy sounds scratching at his throat. Castiel is pressed against the wall by the force of the onslaught, naked now except for where the robe is still hanging on to his arms, pushed as open as Dean can hold it. He moans helplessly as Dean's mouth explores him, catching on the erect, blood purpled flesh that's craving attention. Castiel's fingers curl into Dean's hair and he thrusts shallowly into the wet cavity of his mouth.

Dean whimpers around him, palming himself through his jeans.

For the first time control isn't in Dean's hands, it's Castiel who's moving his head, slowly fucking deeper into Dean's mouth. Shaking with sensation, he can only drive himself forwards towards the invisible edge of his climax, on his knees Dean moans around him, hand fumbling inside his own jeans, tightly closed eyes opening to look up. Castiel's hazy pupils meet them and that's all it takes, he comes painfully hard, Dean's throat constricting as he swallows all he can, feeling a drip or two course down his chin.

Castiel withdraws from between Dean's ardently moving lips, crashing back against the wall. Dean's forehead drops to the concave space of Castiel's hip, mouth lapping at the skin, making the muscles twitch and smearing come with every pass of his lips. His hand jack-knifes across his own erection, his moans desperate and pleading, the larger man folding in on himself with the intensity of his own grip, of the taste in his mouth.

Castiel's hand pets his head gently and Dean spurts across his palm, eyes whiting out as he bites the skin under his mouth, an agonised, guttural sound escaping through his clenched teeth.

He comes back to his senses only when Castiel crouches in front of him, tugging his robe half-heartedly closed and resting his forehead on Dean's quivering shoulder. Dean just wraps his arms around the shaking form of the other man, the mess on his palm clogging the fabric of the robe. As one they slide to the floor, seeking body to body contact, wrapping around each other on the hall carpet. Castiel's warm breath on his neck stutters as Dean sneaks a hand under the robe to stroke his back.

"Sorry..." Dean mumbles, at the same time slipping a jean clad thigh between Castiel's naked legs. Castiel moves against it instinctively, humming pleasure. "You looked too good."

"I'm not good." Castiel shakes his head roughly, looking suddenly distraught, or like he would if he wasn't so tired.

"You're perfect" Dean whispers after an achingly long silence, nuzzling Castiel's soft hair. Castiel shakes his head again, face buried against Dean's chest.

"Yes you are." He insists.

They stay like that for a long time, Dean curled around Castiel, rubbing his back as he shakes and lets his tears soak into the thin fabric of Dean's shirt.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm going to tell Lisa"

They've migrated to Castiel's room with its grey comforter and serene blue walls. Dean tugged Castiel's hand gently until they were up the stairs, laying him down on the bed so he could hold him properly. He's longs since stopped crying. The tears that fell with eerie silent perfection down his face have ceased. Now he looks tired, wounded, like all the fight has been knocked out of him. So Dean figures it's now or never.

"I don't want to lie to her, she's been the best wife I could want...and I still love her, you know, even with all this." He hugs Castiel tighter, feeling the slim frame in his arms nuzzle closer into the comforting warmth. "I just...I think I love you more."

"You shouldn't" Castiel turns his face upwards, eyes red rimmed, pale pink lips nervously bitten and cracked. "This...isn't right." Dean cups his face.

"I like you." He insists, eyes refusing to leave Castiel's wide blue gaze. A flicker of pain crosses Castiel's face, but Dean has to get this out all at once or he'll never say it. "I'm just getting to know you and I still feel like you leaving is the worst thing that could happen." He swallows nervously. "And I know you think this is bad, wrong even. But you're the nicest guy I've met, ever. You're good, ok? And if this is what you want, if...I...make you happy, then it can't be a bad thing, can it?"

A kind of hope rises in Castiel's eyes, wary and tired but still there.

"I have to tell Anna." He says, carefully. "But...I don't know, about this." He rests his hand against Dean's chest. "You barely know me." He finishes, quietly.

"Let me then" Dean strokes a long lock of hair away from Castiel's face, thumb rubbing his jaw.

He leaves Castiel to get dressed, then they sit and drink coffee in a silence that is only semi-awkward. Before he goes Dean squeezes Castiel's shoulder, he's surprised when Castiel kisses him, closed mouthed and briefly, on the lips. Dean manages a small smile.

The conversation with Lisa takes hours.

He doesn't tell her about Castiel right away, mainly because he doesn't want to make things more complicated. But as soon as he tells her it's another guy it kind of limits the offenders to Sam, Bobby and Castiel.

Sam would just get him in more trouble, Bobby is just too gross to fly as a sexual conquest.

So Lisa twigs what's been going on pretty fast.

"You...and Castiel?" she breathes, almost scandalised.

Dean can only nod like a child receiving a severe dressing down, waiting for the first whiplash.

"He's marrying Anna...were you..." her face fractures in horror "were you doing...that...upstairs, while I was helping her plan their wedding...?" He stays silent. "Jesus Dean! How could you...in our house, with his fiancé downstairs, with _me" _Tears make her eyes glossy. "Your wife, remember?"

"Lisa..."

"No!" she shakes him off. "No...you...you must have done something, he's...he's Castiel for..." she shakes her head disbelievingly. "He's a virgin Dean, and he sure as hell isn't gay. You must have..."

"What?" Dean challenges, because ok, he's clearly in the wrong here, but he isn't a home-wrecker. He kissed Castiel because he was drunk and because Cas had looked so lonely and...

Ok, so maybe he was responsible for Castiel falling from grace. But Castiel was gay before then. He couldn't help the fact that he was beautiful. (Dean mentally scrubbed that out – handsome, Cas was handsome.)

"You must have confused him, or something." Lisa finishes, lamely, in Dean's opinion.

"He's been confused for years." Dean points out "his whole family convinced him that he wasn't gay."

"This isn't about him" Lisa sighs, clearly deciding to change tack. "This is about you, Dean." She fixes him with a searching look. "Castiel's never really been with _anyone._ But you..." she frowns "you and I have slept together...hundreds of times, how could you, how _can _you, suddenly decide that you're gay?"

"I'm not" is his automatic response, which just earns him a raised eyebrow and a steely look. "It's not that I like guys now, ok?...it's just Cas." He runs an exasperated hand over his face. "I can't stop thinking about him. I need to see where this is going because I sure as hell have no idea how I feel right now...and I don't want to lie to you."

"You already have" she points out, weakly.

"I'm sorry, for that." They both sit on the couch.

The phone rings.

Lisa gets up and checks the display.

"It's Anna. I should..."

"Yeah." Dean looks lost for a second.

"Dean...go talk to him, he probably went to stay at a motel for the night." Dean remains frozen for a second. "We'll be good...eventually, ok? I just need some space right now."

Dean packs a bag, calls Castiel's cell phone and drives across town to a motel just at the beginning of the highway. The room's a twin, but he can live with that, just seeing Cas is a relief.

"How'd it go with Anna?" he asks once they're both seated on their beds, eating the Chinese takeout Castiel rang for once he'd given Dean the address of the motel.

"Badly." Castiel pokes at something with his chopsticks. "I feel she may consider the last few years with me...wasted." he looks pained. "as she has every right to."

"She'll be ok, trust me, she isn't going to be single for long." Dean says, trying for humour.

"I hope not" Castiel says, with feeling. "I would not wish that kind of loneliness on her. She deserves...much more than I can give her."

"What about you?"

"I have you." Castiel cocks his head in contemplation "or at least...I have at least experienced a degree of closeness with you."

Dean smiles, his first genuine smile all night.

"I meant how did it go for you?"

"Oh" Castiel dips his head towards his takeout carton. "As well as could be expected. She was surprisingly understanding. Though...Anna has always been kind."

There's a slight pause.

"You do...have me...you know." Dean says, awkwardly. "I mean, I know you need some time to work this out, what with the religious crisis and all." He winces. "But I can be around, to help...just so you're not alone."

Castiel sets his container aside and carefully cups Dean's face, kissing him lightly on the lips and then his neck before pulling back.

"Thank you." He murmurs. Sitting beside Dean and picking his food up again. "Gabriel is flying up to stay with me, I'm renting an apartment for the time being. But...I'd like to see you. If that's alright?"

"That'd be great." Dean smiles, feeling a shyness that's entirely new steal over him. Castiel smiles tentatively.

That night they sleep in twin beds, and for the first time in weeks they both sleep soundly.


	7. Chapter 7

When Dean wakes up, Castiel is on his cell phone talking quietly. He makes out the words "Wedding" and "Cancelled" and after a long pause, "But...Michael..."

Castiel's brother. He lifts his head from the pillow and listens more intently.

"Brother...I understand, but please...I didn't think it prudent to...yes, I'm aware." He sighs heavily as his brother speaks. "What would you have me do?" he asks finally, in a very small voice. Another pause as instructions are issued.

"You cannot seriously...Michael, I doubt that Anna would even consider a reconciliation...That isn't the point!" his voice sharpens. "Regardless of what Anna can or cannot be convinced of, a wedding at this juncture would be worse than sacrilegious."

Even as Dean does an internal victory high-five with himself, Castiel's broken voice whispers.

"Michael, please don't ask this of me."

In Castiel's ear, his brothers voice insists.

"Castiel, if you do not go through with the wedding as planned...father will do all he can to strip you from the family – we won't contact you, and your employment will be terminated." He sighs a long, heartfelt sigh. "Brother, this sin is not worth your livelihood, your family or your soul – I wish you would see that."

"I understand" Castiel murmur's leadenly. "Thank you for your concern Michael."

"I wish I could do more." Michael hangs up.

Castiel turns to find Dean wide awake.

"I take it you've been listening."

"I heard enough, yeah." Dean sits up, rubbing at his sleep ruffled hair. "So, you want to tell me what you're going to do?"

One Month Later

Dean boxes up the last of his things. The divorce is nearly final, now comes the lengthy process of moving all his things to his new apartment.

It's not all bad – he can drive his car again, all his stuff isn't confined to one out of the way room and no one complains about his music. But he does miss some things, company over breakfast, a warm body against his in the dark. Someone to talk to and coax a smile from at the end of a hard day.

Lisa walks in just as he's taping the box closed.

"This is the last of it." He promises.

"Ok" she perches on the edge of the counter. "How are you doing?"

"Shouldn't I be asking that?" Dean asks, focusing too intently on getting the tape exactly straight.

"Dean...I heard about Castiel." Lisa says, gently. "I just want you to know..."

"It's fine, honestly." Dean cuts her off, and gives her his best grin. "It'll work out."

Lisa mimics his brave smile.

"Well you can come by any time, if you need to talk." She leaves him to finish packing.

Dean takes the boxes out to the impala and drives them across town.

Two Months Later

Dean stares at the wedding announcement for a whole ten minutes before he can formulate a response. When it comes all he says is, "Son of a bitch", slowly and deliberately so he can almost taste the words.

The wedding is due to take place in what will be the sixth month since he last saw Castiel.

Four Months Later

Dean runs into Castiel by accident outside a 5-and-dime type store three blocks from his new apartment. His hand freezes as it reaches for a six pack of beer, Castiel stands stock still in the next aisle, looking at him over the bottles. He looks good, clean shaven and wearing his usual dour suit. His hair is slightly longer and he's lost the pinched, hunted look he had the last time Dean saw him.

"Cas" he says, before he can stop himself. The nickname brings a smile to Castiel's face.

"Hello Dean" He says, voice as deep and serious as ever.

"How've you been?"

"Well" Castiel's smile subsides. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm doing fine." Dean squirms under Castiel's blue gaze. "You live round here now?" It gives him something to say.

"Actually I'm out of my way, I was looking for something, it's for..." he looks momentarily embarrassed and awkward. "The wedding"

"Oh" is all Dean can manage.

"Yes...I'm sorry, I think I should go" Castiel turns as if to head for the door, then pauses and looks back with his soul deep eyes. "I'll...see you there?"

"Sure" Dean marshals a smile and Castiel disappears.

Six Months Later 

"So...I guess congratulations are in order." Dean raises his champagne glass. "To the happy couple." It echoes around the room. "I can honestly say, I never thought they'd do it. I mean it." Dean says, even as a few people chuckle and the groom, whose eye he refuses to meet, shifts nervously. "There was a point where this" he gestures towards the tables draped in organza, the little sweetheart roses in all the crystal vases, the guests in their tuxes. "wasn't going to happen. But somehow, I guess God, or somebody came through, because, well – everything worked out how it was supposed to."

Dean sets his glass down on the table. He's had enough, more than enough.

Castiel's eyes are on him, watching his every move.

"I have to say, she's a lucky lady. Because she's just married one of the most trustworthy, caring, decent, men that I've ever met. Damn handsome too, I might add." Another ripple of laughter. "and I'm...so happy, to see two people so suited for each other, and I wish you all the best now that you've finally tied the knot."

Applause follows the brief speech, and Dean resumes his seat.

"That was nice." Castiel murmurs, as Sam kisses Jess at the head table. "though not the same speech you showed me yesterday."

"Sam gave me ten minutes to re-write it – practically at knife point." Dean grumbles. He brightens when Castiel nudges his untouched cake in Dean's direction.

"You're the best boyfriend ever, you know that right?"

"It's been said" Castiel smiles at Sam as he looks their way. "They look lovely together."

"And that's the gayest thing you've ever said." Dean smirks round a mouthful of cake. Castiel frowns at him and nudges his foot under the table. Dean returns to his cake. "At least now we know what organza is."

"I'll sleep easier knowing." Castiel takes a sip of champagne as Sam and Jess begin to waltz on the deserted floor.

"You know our wedding has to, like, kick this wedding's ass, right?" Dean murmurs near his ear, something small and light drops into Castiel's lap.

There's a long, deep silence.

Dean remembers the month after Castiel lost his job and his home, all the time never calling Dean for help, leaving it to a friend of Lisa's to keep him informed. It had been hard, not being able to protect Cas from his family. Even harder seeing him out looking for Sam's wedding gift, finding out that he was invited to the wedding _period _was a bit of a shock. But by then Castiel was fresh from a few months of job searching and de-de-gayification (lots of support groups and pamphlets offering a basic 'it's all going to be ok' perspective) and ready to see Dean for coffee.

All that, was nothing compared to this one, long, silence.

"We'll need to hire a wedding planner." Castiel whispers, finally. "I think it would be...inappropriate to rely on Lisa and Anna yet again."

"You beautiful bastard." Dean drags him into a brief, tight hug, then kisses him as deeply as he can.

"Just for once." Sam perches on the table, the dance floor now awash with people. "can it be about me? One day Dean, that's all I ask."

Dean just smirks, Castiel grins.

Sam gets it.

"So he finally decided to make an honest woman of you? Awesome." A thought strikes him. "Hey...can I be your best man again?"

Dean loves Castiel, but having to sit through another of Sam's speeches...might just push him over the edge.

_Yeah, you probably all saw that coming. I thought it was sweet _

_The End._


End file.
